


Sweet Summer Morning

by Moransroar



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-04 00:01:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4119382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moransroar/pseuds/Moransroar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You going somewhere, boss?"</p><p>"Apparently not."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Summer Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Birthday fic for Tumblr's mormortrash, who requested some mormormor smut.  
> Happy birthday babe!

It is morning, that much is obvious. Pale sunlight reflects on the body-length mirror close to the door, the beam crossing the warm bodies under the sheets. Jim is small compared to the chest he is pressed to, strong arms surprisingly limp, yet still the sun casts shadows on the outlines of muscle, stretching over tanned skin. There is a cat soundly asleep in the corner, but as the sun rises and moved through the room, it hits its dark fur and the animal stands, stretches, and jumps up on the window sill. As it settles against the warm window, it blocks the sunlight, and causes the raven-haired man to shift in the arms of his bed partner.

Since the window is ajar, the cat can easily slip out and walk over the railing of the balcony, crossing the neighbours’ apartments with practised ease. Inside, it’s still. The men are unmoving except from the faint rise and fall of their chests, warm and content and in deep sleep. Except from Jim, who now slowly blinks his eyes and squints against the light.

It is summer, which means long evenings and early mornings, sunglasses and ice cubes in drinks. It’s the time of laughter on the balcony late at night, and walks in the park until the sun sets and the chill kicks in. And it’s not a time for staying in bed for too long, or so Jim thinks as he shifts slightly, the heat between the sheets near unbearable. The alarm on the bedside table tells Jim that it’s about time to get up, get off their arses, get to work.

“Up,” Jim groans, swatting the other man’s chest lightly. His eyes are narrowed as he looks up, attempting to meet a familiar pair of greens that hopefully open soon. Although it’s a rather easy-going day, you can never know when a client decides to summon you or when one of your employees fucks up. Better safe than sorry has never really been Jim’s motto, but his methods might sometimes give away his precision and perfectionism.

“ _Up,_ ” Jim demands again, to which the blond man gives a soft groan. But all he does is curl his arms more tightly around Jim’s waist, and dip his head to press his lips to the crook of the criminal’s neck.

“Sebastian.”

“Hm?”

Only then does Jim realise that there is another form behind him who begins moving, and then a sigh ghosts across Jim’s shoulder blade, the air feeling cool against his back. Sebastian shifts against Jim’s back, a hand coming to rest on his hip as he kisses the back of his neck.

Jim blinks, sucking in a deep breath as he processes what is happening. The first thing that come to mind is that it is far too hot in the room to be sandwiched between two bodies, and that thought arises a question. Or rather, suspicion. To confirm his thoughts, Jim tries to face the man before him to identify him properly, because even a genius’s mind doesn’t function at its best when barely awake.

It occurs to him that there are no stripes of thick scar tissue crossing the chest of the man whom arms he is in, but instead a smooth expanse of slightly paler than what he is used to, and softer. And his eyes, as soon as he meets them when a blond head is tilted back again, are a slightly off colour. Jim always pays great attention to detail, so something like this stands out. He can’t fathom why he didn’t realise sooner. Not that he minds.

“Ah,” sighs Jim with a smirk, “Good morning.”

Severin gives a brief, breathy chuckle, voice hoarse with sleep. Sebastian doesn’t seem fazed by his brother’s presence, so Jim pays it no mind. It’s comfortable in the embrace they are in, especially for the Irishman’s still hazy, sleepy state. It is almost too tempting to say “fuck all” and stay in bed, back pressed to Sebastian’s chest, wrapped in Severin’s arms. There is no escaping the hold of the Moran twins without jamming an elbow in an eye and crushing someone’s rib, and even though Jim isn’t opposed to do that if it means he gets to get free, he doesn’t fancy getting up in the first place.

“Morning,” replies Severin, and Jim can feel the man’s fingertips on his back. It’s unfair, waking up like this, receiving the attention of two gorgeous, sleepy blonds. In a feeble attempt to wiggle free as Jim reminds himself that there are other things to be done, he pushes back against Sebastian, but the reaction that coaxes from the man is not at all what Jim expects. There is a low, breathy groan so close to his ear that he can feel Sebastian’s lips against the shell, and immediately Jim’s mouth goes dry.

But it’s power, it’s control, and if there is something that Jim Moriarty likes to play with, it’s those exact things.

“I’m sorry, what?” Jim murmurs, tilting his head just so that he is able to glance back at his sniper with a teasing smirk, and the blond narrows his eyes and mirrors the smile.

“You going somewhere, boss?” Severin says, which has Jim turning his head around once again. Sebastian’s hand on his hip squeezes, then ghosts down across his outer thigh. And God forbid - Jim shivers. Severin’s lips press against Jim’s neck again, who can almost _hear_ the wide grin being exchanged between the Moran twins as they meet eyes over Jim’s shoulder.

“Apparently not,” breathes Jim with a roll of his eyes, but he really can’t be as stern as he wants.

Jim lets his eyes droop shut to concentrate on the feeling of lips against his neck and to his shoulder, arms around him and hands hot against his skin. It doesn’t even matter that it is warm, even for this time of day. Five more minutes. That can’t hurt anybody, can it?

Deciding to enjoy this while it lasts, Jim relaxes into the touches, saving the work tension for a later time. They are  relatively decently dressed – all the least covered by pants, which was comfortable in the direct sunlight. Teeth graze the skin of Jim’s neck, and in response he grinds his hips back against Sebastian’s groin, only half accidentally. The hand on his hip tightens and forces Jim’s arse to press against Sebastian again, and even through the fabric of their pants it’s easy to register the hardening bulge against his lower back.

Jim works his hands up to be able to fist his fingers into Severin’s hair and tug his head back to kiss him across his jawline. It’s nothing but innocent teasing, but Jim has the tendency to push his employees on all sorts of levels. Besides, it is more than just a little interesting to see who loses patience first. Twins are supposed to be so similar, but Severin and Sebastian are so different, Jim knows. When it comes to habits in the bedroom, Sebastian is far easier to win over and have him do what you want. Severin, on the other hand, can handle a bit of teasing. Which is why, when Jim sucks on the skin that stretches over his jaw, all the criminal gets from him is a content sigh.

Despite his composure, Jim thinks the situation is rather enticing, and he playfully rolls his hips before pressing himself against Severin more than he already is, coaxing Sebastian to come closer. And of course the man does, and they’re lying so close now that Jim had access to almost every inch of flesh and skin he would want to touch.

As Jim arches his back, he brings his hand between his own body and Severin’s, cupping the man through the thin fabric of his pants, and watches him part his lips in a soundless moan. The grin on Jim’s lips is unabashed, and he only squeezes him harder until Severin is practically squirming. Jim can’t resist from slipping two fingers just underneath the waistband, his fingers moving from left to right over soft, warm flesh. Then he dips his whole hand into his pants and takes him in hand, barely stroking but for the very faint flicks of his wrist.

Sebastian has lifted himself up on one elbow, looking over Jim’s shoulder to watch the little show the raven-haired man is giving them. He knows full well that this is the way Jim plays, and that the games should always go by his rules if anyone else wants to enjoy it too. Mostly, that is. On the rare occasion, when Jim is in a mood of some kind, he might give up that Alpha role.

But for now, Jim keeps slowly stroking Severin’s length, his pants pulling back by Jim’s hand with the slow movements and with that exposing the blond’s cock. Sebastian moves his hand from Jim’s thigh to his lower abdomen, curling fingers over the raven-haired man’s sharp hipbone, and the next thing Jim knows, Sebastian’s hand finds its way into his pants. Just like Jim wants. With a quiet laugh, he arches into the touch, grinding against the palm of his sniper’s hand.

Jim strokes Severin quicker, movements of his hand swift and sturdy until he hears soft whimpers falling from the blond man’s lips. It’s surprisingly easy once you know how to work someone, and this wasn’t exactly the first time for them. Jim turns his head, looking back at Sebastian with an almost lazy expression, biting his lower lip lightly in invitation. And of course Sebastian takes it, capturing Jim’s lips with his own as he grinds against him again.

“Eager,” Jim purrs against Sebastian’s lips, letting a breathy little moan escape as the other presses his palm just so to the head of his cock, grinding and rubbing, and Jim finds himself wanting more with each half-stroke. He isn’t exactly a patient man when it comes to things he desperately wants, and even though ‘desperate’ is a big word, having someone’s lips around his cock is an absolute must.

So without further ado, Jim shoves his shoulder into Sebastian’s chest so that he backs away a little, allowing Jim to lie on his back, resuming his kiss with Sebastian. The other Moran twin smiles and kisses down Jim’s chest, having him squirm within no time. Lips are pressed to his lower abdomen, to the waistband of his pants, across the outlines of his cock against fabric. It has his toes curling and his back arching, biting down on Sebastian’s lower lip until the man moans his discomfort.

Jim runs his hand through Severin’s hair, his other hand tracing over Sebastian’s chest, and it’s a simple treat how the former pulls down Jim’s pants and sucks open-mouthed kisses along the length of his shaft. Soon, warm lips enclose around the head of his cock, and Jim smiles when Severin sinks down and hollows his cheeks when he comes back up. It’s slow, but it’s only a start.

The pace is set, quicker with each stroke, Jim’s hand tightening in Severin’s hair until they find something that has the fire in Jim’s loins going more than it already was. Sebastian’s beside Jim, kissing and biting across his chest, lightly taking the nub of Jim’s nipple between his teeth. Jim snaps his hips into the warm, wet coil of Severin’s mouth, head back against the pillows and lips parted, his fingers curled tightly around Sebastian’s cock. The strokes are quick, flicks of his wrist in a rhythm that is similar to the clenching of his abdominal muscles.

Severin’s hand pumps when Jim decides that just his mouth isn’t enough, a single string of saliva attaching the man’s lower lip to the tip of Jim’s cock, glistening in the sunlight until it is broken by the stroking of Severin’s hand. Sebastian is making pretty sounds on Jim’s right, on his knees, trying not to grab at Jim’s hair because that won’t be appreciated without the correct permission.

And Jim is close. It’s a good feeling, back arched and slicked with sweat, sticking to the sheets. There aren’t many words exchanged between the three men other than silent ‘fuck’s and ‘jesus’s. His pants wound a little uncomfortably around his thighs, Severin between his legs, Sebastian by his side. He’s out of control, if only a little. Because he’s so close that he can almost feel it pooling in his stomach, small shocks of pleasure having him spasm marginally. And he knows that the others know, because looks are exchanged and Sebastian kisses Jim deeply again, his finger pinching the most sensitive nipple out of the two. And Severin speeds up, eyes cast upwards to see his employer’s face as he pushes Sebastian away to gasp in air as he topples over the edge and spills over Severin’s hand.

Jim’s hand stills on Sebastian’s shaft, leaving the man only slightly disappointed, but the sight more than makes up for it. Jim’s eyes are half lidded, lips parted, muscles quivering. And there is a small, post-coital smile playing on his lips as a lean tongue darts out to wet the chapped skin.

Once Jim has gathered himself, recomposed what he had lost just before, he sits up and watches Severin lick his lips, lapping up a stray string of cum that has landed on his lip, and it’s too tempting for Jim not to lean in and kiss him deeply as a sort of reward.

“Attaboy,” he whispers, and then – without cleaning himself up – he wiggles into his pants again, and rises from the bed to stretch, leaving a slightly confused set of twins behind.

“Anyway,” drags Jim, turning and running a finger over the spurt of cum on his belly, smiling a lobsided grin.

Sebastian and Severin have a hunch of what it means, both still aching to be touched, not even half sated of spent. But Jim is up, and he looks energetic yet lazy as ever as he licks his fingers slowly and catched the twins staring.

Jim smiles, turns, and just before he leaves the room for the shower, he calls over his shoulder to announce that playtime is over.

“Rise and shine, boys. It’s time for work.”


End file.
